If she gave the doctor permission to operate, that means it’s true. Joel really is missing. “So you don’t know where he is?”
She almost looks sympathetic. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”
A tear leaks from the edge of my eye. I don’t even realize it until wetness trails down my cheek. Mrs. Dawes shakes her head and begins pacing.
“You two should have told me. You should have come to our house, not the other way around. What if it had been something worse? What if Todd hadn’t been there to scare off whoever did this?”
It could just be me, but she kind of seems okay that Todd was there. “Is he all right?”
She sighs and rubs the huge dark circles smiling under her eyes. “He’s fine. He called the ambulance after he saw you tumble out the window. I have to ask, Piper—”
She closes in. Fine lines feather around her eyes, which are the exact cinnamon brown as Todd’s.
“Who did this to you? Do you remember anything at all?”
Crapola. I don’t know what to say. It’s one thing to spray paint someone’s house or throw eggs or TP their trees. Stooping low is an understatement for what Jordan did.
“It was so dark,” I say. Don’t ask me anything more. If Todd didn’t believe me about my house without seeing it, you certainly won’t.
Her shiny red mouth pouts. A set of footsteps join us again. The doctor is back.
“How soon can she be discharged?” she asks him, and then she and the doctor get wrapped up in words like inflammation and blood loss and then the real kicker: Overnight.
“What!” I say, interrupting them. The house. It could do anything—horrible anything—if I don’t go back. I’ve already been here long enough. “Please. I’m sure”—another wince—“I’ll be fine. I’d really like to go home.” I don’t want to stay the night here! Not alone. Oh gosh, Joel. Where is Joel?
The doctor closes in. His glasses perch at the tip of his nose. “I’d advise you to stay one more night, Miss Crenshaw. Just to be sure there are no other complications.”
I hold my gaze to his, willing him to read my thoughts. I can’t stay the night here. I have to find my brother. And I shouldn’t be away from my house, not if something else goes wrong.
I shift again. “Thanks for, you know, saving my life or whatever. But I’d really like to go home.”
Mrs. Dawes butts in. “Not only are you a minor, but you’re also in no condition to take care of yourself, Piper. Why not stay here and get the help you need? We’ll keep trying to contact Joel.”
A burr settles into my throat. “No.” Who knows what could happen in my house with me not there.
Mrs. Dawes holds up a small slip of paper. “This note says I can make judgments on your behalf, signed by your father. I’m sure he would want this, Piper.”
So it’s a threat. She shouldn’t have bothered giving me the choice, then.
“I’m sure the police will be here soon,” the doctor says in response to something Mrs. Dawes asks, and they leave me to the quiet, beeping silence.
A Gilmore Girls rerun plays on the screen diagonal from my bed, but I ignore the chatter and lose track of myself in the wispy clouds outside. I still haven’t seen Todd. I can’t fathom why he hasn’t come to see me. A rock wedges up my stomach—he probably regrets kissing me.
Voices ride along the hallway, and I fight the depression threatening at every side until they close in. Cassie Richards steps into my room. Her dark hair hangs in curlicues to her elbows, and she wears gobs of black makeup around her eyes.
“Cassie. What are you doing here?” A chuckle threatens to escape my throat. I’m unexpectedly happy to see her. I didn’t think anyone would visit me, and here’s Cassie, the nicest girl in school.
She gives a simpering smile, like she’s not sure if she wants to smile or not. The look quickly drains any hints of laughter from me. “I heard what—what happened. Jordan’s a loser.”
Barriers go up inside my chest and I inwardly retreat. Up until now no one has seemed to know Jordan was involved at all—not even Todd’s mom. For a minute I wonder if there’s anything on Facebook or Quizper about this, but I’m not sure I care anymore.
“Seriously?” I ask.
She fiddles with one of the rings on her forefinger. “I mean, he’s such a hoser. He should never have done that. Hurt you like that.”
I close my eyes against the realization. “Who told you, Cassie?”
“Sierra,” she mutters, peering over her shoulder. Then her coffee black eyes look straight into mine, and the look compresses my stomach. “She told me something else that I’m not sure I want to believe.”
My house. Sierra has brains after all.
Cassie wants the truth. I wonder if she would have come to visit me if I’d just gotten hurt in a normal way. Just like I knew she only wanted to do that project there so she could see what the inside looked like. Depression settles back in again. It always comes down to my house.
“It was nice of you to stop by,” I say instead of giving her any kind of answer.
“Knock knock,” comes another girl’s voice, and to my complete, jaw-dropping surprise, Sierra walks in, zit-faced and all. She covers the acne much better than I ever could, but the bumps are still visible. A shock of guilt rings through, but it doesn’t last long. Just to make sure, I brush a few fingertips over my cheeks. Smooth.
“Oh, Cassie. I didn’t know you were…” Sierra looks down at her hands, which are wadded together around a small bouquet of daisies in front of her. I’m speechless. Sierra never acts unsure of herself this way.
Cassie’s dark eyes dart between us and then she points an awkward finger in the air. “Got it. Well, get better soon, Piper.”
“Thanks, Cassie,” I say, watching Sierra. “What are you doing here?” I ask, before Cassie makes it to the door. Sierra comes to visit me before Todd does? He must have meant the kissing-his-sister thing after all.
Sierra rushes to set the daisies down on the table by my bed. They fall to the floor, and she bends for them again, crinkling their plastic wrappings. I’m half-tempted to knock them over again just to watch her kowtow to me.
Dirty, rotten, lying, flaky— It’s her fault I’m in here. Hers and her rat-faced boyfriend’s.
“I just wanted to come by,” she says, shaking like a tree in the wind.
“Good job,” I say, “you finally accomplished something.”
She straightens and adjusts her head, like it’s hard to hold it upright. “Look, I never thought he’d bring an axe, okay? That—that profile was just supposed to be a joke! I had no idea what he planned on when he asked me to sneak out with him last night.”
It’s hard to erase years of hurt for one measly apology, especially hearing her practically admit she and Jordan had been the ones to create that profile. Even though I kinda already knew. Still, I soften toward her. She looks miserable, like this heavy weight hangs on her conscience. She’s all put-together except for her face, which adds a degree of pathetic-ness to her.
And besides, what am I supposed to say to her, I’m sorry you got my acne?
I shift in the bed, but the movement sends screams of pain to my side, and I cry out. Sierra steps forward with a worried look on her face. My meds must be wearing off. I push the button for more.
“It’s okay,” I say once the pain subsides. “I guess everyone has it in for Payback Piper.”
Sierra’s chin immediately drops to her sternum. Her silky hair drapes to either side of her face, and she speaks to the linoleum. “I’ve asked him not to call you that anymore.”
“Like that will work.”
She fiddles with the sidebar on my bed, and I stiffen. Apology or not, I don’t like her being that nearby. I think she can tell, because she backs up.
“How did you get hurt by…by what he did? I mean, I saw the axe go in—” She holds out a manicured hand as if to stop me from saying anything. “Which was so not cool, but it just kind of, I don’t know, came back bl
oody. And then you fell and—”
She shudders and bites her glossy lip. “I saw it,” she finishes. “But I can’t believe it.”
I’m too stunned to speak. The imaginary battlefield that’s always between us has been replaced with a merry-go-round and swings. This must be the side of Sierra Todd always told me about. The territory is still too out-in-the-open, though, and I don’t want to enter it for fear of getting struck down again.
“He feels bad, you know,” she goes on.
Her green eyes appear sincere enough, but I’m still afraid to trust her. Lorelai and Rory Gilmore argue about something on the screen, but their words are muffled.
“And he’s glad you haven’t narced on him to anyone.”
Yeah, considering he could probably end up in the cell across from my mother for the stunt he pulled. I’ll probably end up in a padded cell if I admit what actually happened.
She taps a fingernail along the sidebar of my bed. That’s my cue to say something, I guess. I meet her gaze directly for the first time since she walked in the room. “Can I believe that? Really?”
Her stenciled brows furrow. “Believe what?”
“That he’s sorry. That you’re sorry.”
It’s silent and a nurse comes into my room. “I hope you can, Piper.” And then she leaves the room as the nurse puts a little clip on my finger to check my vitals.
“Hey.”
Energy surges through the room with tangible force at the mere sound of his voice. A smile crooks up the corners of my lips and I tug the blankets. Todd’s hair is a tangled bird’s nest. He looks extra tall in a pair of jeans and striped shirt. A maddening swarm of electricity gathers between us, attaching me to him even from this short distance.
“You’re here,” I say with relief.
His walk, the casual lilt of his shoulders and ease of his smile. Everything about him makes me feel possessive with this engendered pride. He’s mine. My best friend and maybe more.
“I tried to come sooner, but my mom thought you needed some time to yourself.”
Puh. His mom. “In other words,” I say, “she knows we kissed and doesn’t want you anywhere near me?” Instantly, I regret my cynicism. I should be grateful she had that note from my dad; otherwise I might have been SOL.
“Something like that.” He gives me this crooked smile, with one hand tucked into a pocket, and my heart whizzes around like a wind-up toy. Man, I’m so whipped for this guy.
“Brought you something,” he says, removing a hand from his pocket. Clark Kent’s head pokes out of the top of Todd’s fist. A laugh escapes me.
“You brought me Superman?” I take the head-on-a-stick candy dispenser and stare at the large S on Clark’s big blue chest.
Todd leans against the bed rail. “You know. Just in case you ever decide to jump out a window again.”
I laugh and grimace at the stab of side-pain at the same time. Todd doesn’t notice; instead, he beams at me. More of that intense vitality forms a line, connecting our gazes, until I get to the point if I look anymore I’ll burst.
I break eye contact and swallow a rickety breath. Just for a distraction, I open Superman’s head, but it’s empty. “No candy?”
“C’mon, Pipes, you know that’s the first thing I do.”
I peer at him through my lashes. “What does a girl have to do to get some candy around here?”
His mouth kinks into a smirk, and he positions himself near my legs on the bed. “That the big kahuna?” he asks, gesturing to my blankets.
I lift them, careful to keep my lower half covered, seeing as how I’m not wearing anything beneath the gown besides zebra-striped underwear.
Todd picks at the tape on my bandage in the same spot the doctor did earlier. My stomach constricts with his fingers so near my skin. “Peel that sucker back, let’s take a look.”
“Not a good idea,” I say, brushing his hand away. “I don’t want to mess anything up.”
Todd gives me this prideful look of ownership that makes me tingle with delight. It clears all other thoughts from my mind.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he says, sliding a chair to my side. I nod and readjust with a wince at the tiny hint of pain. A flash of concern crumples his face.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I will be.”
“Sure you will,” he says. “’Cause you’re coming to my house until your brother gets back.”
My brain hits the brakes, and I catch myself releasing Todd’s fingers when I didn’t know I’d been holding them. That means they haven’t heard from Joel yet. I think Todd can tell what I’m thinking because he cocks his mouth to the side in an apologetic way.
I stare at the blanket. “What if he doesn’t, Todd?”
His expression falls for the smallest second before he pushes his smile back on. “He will,” he says, but it’s unconvincing.
I sigh and flop my head back. Todd glances behind him and then leans in. For the smallest second I think he’s going to kiss me again.
“Piper, what happened with Jordan?” His voice is low, practically a whisper.
I’m not sure where to start. Before I figure it out, Todd goes on.
“He was standing by your body outside, just staring down at you on the grass. Every time I tried talking to him, he said, ‘I didn’t mean to.’ Was he inside? Was he hiding, waiting until I left so he could axe you?”
Todd blinks several times, and I squint to make sure I’m seeing what I think I am. His eyes are wet, and his mouth fidgets. “I almost lost you, Piper,” he says, more tender than a caress. “I swear, if anything had happened to you…if Jordan had—”
The muscles in his forearm stand out, and his knuckles are white. He blinks a few more times and looks away. I reach for his constricted fingers. His palm is damp.
“I’m still here,” I say.
He sniffles and gives out a weak grin. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”
I pull Todd’s hand so it rests on my stomach—an easier distance for me to reach. I skim my finger along the tip of his nail. “You know that floating door?”
He nods and gives another sniff. “I saw the ladder out there.”
An uneasy feeling tells me not to say any more, but I’m done holding things in. “Jordan hit it with his axe. He meant to smash through it, to see if anything was behind it.”
Todd rears back, disbelief riding on his face. “No way.”
“But when the axe hit, it cut me instead.”
He shakes his head and stares at his knees. His curls froth to the sides of his head like a perfect ice cream scoop. “You’ve told me some stories, Pipes, but now they’re just getting crazy.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, thinking of my mother. I shove his hand away. Is that what he’s thinking of, too? I thought he knew me better than this.
He rests his arm on the rail on the side of my bed, and scratches one of his black eyebrows. “We don’t have a lot of time before my mom comes. She decided to go with your wishes and let you come home with us tonight. Can we talk about it later?”
“Do you believe me?”
His gaze drops to his lap.
“I don’t know,” he says. He stands when his mom enters the room. Mrs. Dawes hands me a floral, Mary Poppins-looking carpet bag.
“I brought you some of Janessa’s clothes, Piper. What do you say we get going?” She smiles as if she’s doing me a huge favor.
A set of scales alternates in my mind, weighing back and forth between the balance of: Wait here and wonder what’s going on, or Go to Todd’s. I can’t stay at their house, but she’s right, taking care of myself is out, too. I accept the bag holding Todd’s older sister’s clothes. Using his help, I rise to my feet. To my horror, the back of my hospital gown flaps wide open. I keep my back to the bed, lips tucked between my teeth.
Mrs. Dawes catches on. She takes Todd’s arm and leads him toward the door.
“We’ll pick up your prescription on the way home,” she says an
d then points to the bathroom. “Get dressed.”
Fortunately, Todd’s sister not only has a decent sense of style, but his mom also brought a pillow for me to tuck between my stomach and the seatbelt. And since I’m wearing his sister’s clothes, Mrs. Dawes agrees to let Todd help me get a few of my own things from my house before heading over.
Like a gentleman, Todd helps me climb out of their Honda Pilot.
The warm air snuggles in around my skin, and I do my best to shuffle over and slant against their open garage door. Those few steps alone steal breath from my lungs, and I pant and flinch at the pain simple breathing brings.
Mrs. Dawes motions Todd over to her side of the car. She sneaks a look over to me before speaking under her breath. “Don’t take too long or I’ll send your brother over.”
My eyebrows leap from my forehead. For reals?
“What do you think we’re going to do?” Todd mutters, slamming the car door behind his mom. “She just got out of the hospital.”
Mrs. Dawes stammers like she doesn’t know what to say, then heads into the garage entrance to their house, right beside a rack of bikes. I take in the faint smell of exhaust and try to pretend I didn’t hear the last part of their conversation.
“Thanks for your help,” I call to her. Keeping her back to me, she gives a small wave and closes the door behind her.
The minute she’s gone, Todd slips his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. Warmth radiates from him, and he smells like soap.
“Another sleepover,” he says, resting his chin on my hair. “I could get used to these.”
“Under different circumstances,” I add, leaning into him as we cross the grass, past the double-level, gray tower on the front corner of my house. I look for signs of what happened that night, for the ladder or the axe, but Jordan cleaned his traces well.
The gash in the siding I noticed earlier is still there, like the paint is bleeding off. But just above that, at the floating door I saw Jordan whack his axe into, not a scratch can be seen.
I dig my nails into Todd’s arm. “Todd—what is that?”
Phobic Page 17
